ICU Psychosis
by JaydenBell
Summary: Flack is in an accident and finds out that nearly getting crushed to death was the least of his problems.
1. Chapter 1

"Officer down! Officer down! Requesting EMS immediately!"

Danny stuffed the hand-held radio back into his pocket as he tried to run through the debris. The dust in the room was thicker than honey from the brick crumbling just moments earlier. He coughed and spat as his lungs objected to the lack of clean air, but continued running anyway. More of the building fell apart around him as he maneuvered through it and the walls didn't exist anymore. The historic little church was gone.

He tossed everything in his path as he tried to get further into the mess, closer to his friend who was lying in the middle of the chaos, under the weight of it. Though he couldn't see through the dirty cloud that had filled the air around him, he knew he was close. It was a small structure and he could just feel his best friend's presence.

And then he saw him.

His arm was the only thing Danny could see at first. The light blue shirt he wore, still rolled up to his elbow, was torn and stained with blood. He could see more torn clothing and blood as he began to pull pieces of brick, plaster, and wood from Don's body, and he knew he was in bad shape. When he tossed a piece of a support beam away from his feet, the sight scared him and made him sick all at once. With the large beam out of the way, Danny was able to push away the one beneath it that was pinning his friend's shoulder down and covering his face. Every inch of the skin on his face was covered in a light coating of dust from the collapse, interrupted occasionally by a scratch or cut.

He knelt down next to him, nervously searching for a heartbeat, afraid he might not find one. He nearly cried out when he could feel a weak pulse in his neck. But he knew Flack was far from okay. "Flack, help's on the way, man. You just hang in there." He squeezed his hand quickly before standing again.

He made quick work of retracing his steps, trying to better clear the path he had taken to get to Flack, in hopes that the EMTs would be able to get to him that much faster.

Just as he was kneeling back in front of the detective, he heard the familiar wail of an ambulance siren approaching. When they pulled up, he waved them in frantically and pointed out the path he made.

Flack was strapped to a backboard and carried out of the rubble within minutes. As he was loaded into the back of the rig, the technician told Danny which hospital to meet them at. He nodded blankly and stepped back as the ambulance pulled away, almost in slow motion.

He didn't move, didn't blink, wasn't even sure he was breathing. As he started to walk away, trying to remember where his truck was parked, _across the street maybe_, he heard voices and commotion.

He turned to see Stella and Mac running toward him, Mac clutching his radio in his hand. That's when he remembered his own radio, tucked away in his pocket, and he distantly remembered hearing it ringing out while he was digging Flack out of the rubble; Mac had probably trying to find out more information since the initial distress call.

"Danny, what happened?" Stella demanded as she grabbed Danny's arms, looking his body up and down for injuries.

He looked back at the remains of the old church, then back to Stella. "Flack. The building…it collapsed before we got out."

"Danny?" Stella pushed him to continue.

He was quickly losing focus and knew that within a matter of minutes he would be of no use to anyone as he went into a shock-like state, trying to process everything that happened. He blinked hard as he felt tears stinging at his eyelids, threatening to the surface.

"He looked bad, Stell. He may not make it."

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I heard a crack behind me. It was faint, but I heard it. And I knew I was in serious trouble. I started running before Danny even yelled to get out.

We knew the building was old and unstable. But we were told that it was safe to go in as long as we didn't mess with the supports on the back wall. We made a point of staying away from that wall. In fact, we didn't touch any wall. We only looked around. After taking a few more pictures and lifting a shoeprint from the dust on the floor, Danny decided that he had enough evidence for his case without risking anymore time in the shaky old building.

I took the evidence box out to the truck while Danny packed up his kit. When I met him back inside, he had his stuff packed up and he was ready to go. We were headed for the door when the supports along the wall started to give.

As soon as I heard that sound, I felt my heart skip a beat. I remembered Danny dropping his kit and yelling to get out. And I didn't even need to be told the first time to move; I was fast on my feet right behind him. But not faster than the first beam that fell from overhead, landing on my right shoulder and pinning me to the floor. I saw Danny running ahead of me still. He didn't realize that I was stuck now, and I wasn't about to turn him around just for him to end up with the same fate.

As I struggled under the weight of the piece of ceiling that was holding my body down, I could hear the building quickly crumbling all around me. I knew in a matter of seconds, most of it would be on the ground and I would be on the bottom of the mess. This would be my demise and my mind flashed back on all of the great moments I had in my life in that instant.

Then suddenly, the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

For two days, nobody moved from their seats outside the ICU doors, fear of missing important news keeping them glued in place.

On the third day, a doctor walked out – the same doctor who had told them time after time there was no change – and offered a smile. "He's awake."

It was all he needed to say to cause a sigh of relief among the whole group.

Stella quickly rose to her feet and stepped forward. "When can we see him?"

"I'm sorry Miss Bonasera," he told her, "but only immediate family members are allowed in the ICU."

From the corner of her eye, Stella saw Danny spring from his chair. He took a place next to her and spoke sternly, but kept his voice down, mindful of the others in the room. "That's what we are, his family. We're the ones who have been here every second since he came in."

Stella could tell the doctor was used to this; it must have been hard for him. "I'm sorry sir, but there are rules in the ICU. Family only. Once Detective Flack is taken to a medical recovery room, you can all see him."

Danny's face began to turn red as he tried to remain calm, but Stella knew the anger was only out of love for his friend. "You don't understand, Doc. Flack's father ain't gonna be here holdin' his hand. He's not close with his family anymore. We're all he's got. You gotta let us see him."

The doctor sighed. She could tell he really did want to help and that he truly felt bad for Flack. He lowered his voice as he stepped closer to the group. "I'll let one of you go. Just one. That's it. Then you have to wait until he's released to the medical floor."

"Stella, you go ahead. Let us know how he's doing, alright?" Mac nodded in her direction.

Danny looked at Mac for a moment, then put his hand on her shoulder, understanding Mac's reasoning. "Give the guy a hug for all of us."

Stella nodded to everybody and followed the doctor as he led her to a scrub room. As they walked, he softly mentioned to her: "If anyone asks, you're his fiancée."

She smiled, nodding her head lightly in agreement.

In the scrub room, she opened the soap and stood at the sink for 45 seconds like she was told, looking around the small room as she did. Everything was so orderly and in its place. Even in a 6x6 room, it felt like a hospital; the last place she wanted any of her friends to be.

Once she was done washing up, she put on the gown and mask she was given and walked into the Intensive Care Unit. A nurse led her down a dimly lit row of beds until they got to Flack's. The woman held the curtain for Stella, then pulled it closed again to give them some privacy once she had stepped inside.

She approached the bed slowly, quietly, carefully. His eyes were closed and he was hooked up to a dozen different machines and monitors.

As she sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes fluttered open and he smiled, slowly. "I must be in heaven."

Stella smiled when she heard his voice, thankful he was alive, thankful she could see that for herself now. "Why do you say that?"

"If it was Hell, Messer'd be sittin' there," he spoke slowly. "His face ain't nearly as pretty to wake up to as yours."

She laughed and held his hand. _Yeah, he's gonna be okay._

"How ya feeling, Don?"

"I got morphine. Can't complain. How's er'body else doin'?" His accent was even thicker with all the drugs running through his system and if she hadn't been sitting there with him, she may not have recognized his voice.

"Everybody's good. We're all just a little worried about you, Don. You've been out for a few days. We were getting scared."

He patted her hand and shook his head. "Don't be. I'm okay. Just needed some rest. And I'm all better now."

She laughed at him and pointed toward his feet. "I don't know about 'all better'. You've got a lot of titanium hardware holding your right ankle together and your left one is black and blue. I'm sure the rest of your body is a similar color as well."

He gave her a sleepy grin and raised his eyebrows. "Wanna check for me, _honey_?"

Stella rolled her eyes and chuckled quietly. "I take it the doctor told you how he snuck me back here?"

"Our little secret," he winked.

She rose from the bed and pulled her mask down, leaving it hanging on her chin. She kissed him on the forehead and smiled. "Get some rest, Don. Everybody misses you and they can't wait to see you when you get transferred out of here."

He held onto her hand tight, keeping her from leaving. "Tell 'em all I miss 'em too. And that I'm gonna be fine now."

She squeezed his hand back and smiled. "I will."

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When I woke up, I was very sure something bad had happened, but I couldn't quite remember what it was. I opened my eyes as the swirling sensation in my head began to pick up speed, hoping I was just having some kind of bad dream that I could wake up from.

The dim lights in the room burned my eyes as I tried to pry them open. After blinking heavily several times, I was able to focus on a few spots around me, and realized I was in a hospital. What felt like an eternity passed before I was able to reach the button on my bed that called for a nurse.

While I waited for someone to come, I tried to put together what had happened. I knew something happened in the church. I could remember a crack, and panic, and Danny. I prayed that he made it out okay; I could still remember him running as the world went black. I couldn't remember anything else solid and it was beginning to make my head hurt just thinking about it.

A young woman in pale green scrubs walked up to my bed just as I was about to give up on thinking and go back to sleep. She smiled gently at me and rested her hand on my shoulder. "Detective Flack? Good of you to finally join us." She looked briefly at a monitor next to my bed, then back to me. "I'm Katrina, your nurse tonight. Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

I groaned when she turned on another small light above my head. "I could tell ya, but I try not to use such impolite language with ladies present."

She grinned and nodded, pulling a set of keys from her pocket. "Just a location of the pain and something on a scale of one to ten will do then," she said as she unlocked the analgesic pump, adjusting the dose of pain medication.

"It'd be a shorter list to tell ya what don't hurt," I grumbled as I tried to move my shoulders a little.

"A little more morphine should help with the pain." She turned to me after locking the pump back up. "And if it helps, you're friends have been here. They've set up camp in the waiting room for the last three days."

I'm sure my expression got across every coherent thought I had at that moment, because Katrina nodded slowly before turning the light off again. "You got incredibly lucky, Detective."

I closed my eyes again without a word as the pain medication began to kick in and I felt a little more comfortable.

A while later, Katrina came in again, shaking my shoulder with the softest touch to wake me up. "Detective Flack?"

I gave myself a minute to make sure English would come from my mouth and not gibberish before I opened my eyes and turned my head toward her voice. "Call me Don," I mumbled.

"Don, someone's coming back to see you in just a moment, if you're feeling up to it."

"Figured ICU'd be a 'fam'ly only' place. I know I don't have no blood relatives out there."

"The doctor said he was letting your fiancé back to see you," she winked.

I grinned and settled my head back on my pillow, closing my eyes to block out the light for just another moment. "Thanks."

I heard the curtain rustle a few minutes later, followed by a light movement on the side of my bed. I opened my eyes to see Stella looking down at me, worry painting her beautiful face. I quickly managed to set her at ease, assuring her that I had survived the worst of it.

She told me to rest and I promised I would be fine and out in no time.

Boy, was I wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

On his third day in the ICU, Flack woke up and everyone was incredibly thrilled. A lightness filled the room as though a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

With their crisis past them, Mac began sending people back to work, promising them he would keep them updated about when Flack was being moved and when he would be allowed visitors. The only people who stayed behind were Mac and Danny.

They went down to the cafeteria for coffee after being told it would be at least an hour before Flack was to be moved.

"Stella said he's playin' the tough guy act," Mac started after taking a sip of steaming coffee.

"He'll cry uncle when they take the morphine pump away from him," Danny grinned. He took a sip of his own coffee before giving Mac a serious look. "It was scary in that building, ya know? I thought for sure…"

"I know," he cut Danny off. Mac knew the pain of watching someone die. He knew Danny believed he had seen his best friend leave him that day and it had been plaguing him ever since. "But he's okay now. A little bruised and broken, but he's still with us." Danny only nodded in agreement.

After they sat drinking their coffee for several minutes, Mac stood. "What do you say we head back up? In case they move him a little early?"

Danny popped the lid onto his paper cup and stood as well. Mac clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way out of the busy dining area.

When they got upstairs again, they sat in the same waiting room they had become uncomfortably familiar with over the past couple days. Both stared blankly at the TV for a while, not interested in the reruns that played on the small faded screen.

About a third of the way into the next show that aired, Flack's doctor walked into the waiting room.

"Detective Taylor, Detective Messer," he greeted them in turn. "Detective Flack is ready to move to the med-surg floor for observation and recovery. I thought you might like to escort him there."

Mac saw Danny smile from the corner of his eye and he could see that his stress had been washed away instantly. He also should have seen the smart-ass remark coming.

"Yeah, he needs all the watchful eyes he can get. That one's nothing but trouble."

The doctor chuckled lightly and handed Mac a slip of paper. "That's his new room number. If you head through the doors there," he pointed to a set of double doors across the room, "we'll meet you outside in just a moment."

Mac thanked the doctor and headed for the door with Danny fast behind him. They waited for about five minutes outside the double doors before another set opened and a gurney rolled through.

Flack had cords, wires, and tubes coming from countless parts of his body, but he had a small smile on his face. "They brought in the big guns to show me to my room, huh?"

"Gotta make sure you're not giving the nurses too much trouble," Mac smiled. "How are you, Don?"

"I'm okay. Looking forward to getting out of here."

"You've still got some time to serve in this place," a nurse said over his shoulder with a smile. "But at least now your friends can visit."

Flack smiled and made quick introductions as Katrina continued to push the gurney down the hall.

It was quite a journey from 8th floor ICU to 5th floor medical, and they talked lightly as they headed for the elevator. Mac opened his mouth to ask Flack if he wanted something to eat when he got settled in his room, but an alarm beeping interrupted him.

He looked down as Katrina stopped pushing the gurney to look at the portable monitor mounted on the bed rail. The worried look on her face caused Mac's mind to race just as he saw Flack's eyes drift closed.

"Flack," Mac grabbed his hand and Danny ran to the other side.

"Detective Flack?" Katrina rubbed his shoulder. "Don," she lowered the rail on the gurney and pushed Mac away a little. "Don, I need you to open your eyes for me." She moved her hand to his chest, rubbing her knuckles roughly over his sternum, and Mac began to worry as the beeping on the monitor changed again.

"Katrina, what's going on?"

"His heart rate's climbing; I'm not sure why. Nothing we've given him should cause that."

Mac stepped back and watched helplessly as she reached into the drug box resting between Flack's feet. She introduced a medication into his IV and they both hovered close to the monitor behind her, waiting for the beeping to change again.

After several long seconds, the heart tone on the monitor calmed down and they all let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived as the monitor squealed again.

Katrina jumped to grab the oxygen mask tied to the bed rail, quickly pulling the strap over his head. Mac felt like his own heart had stopped in that moment; Flack was going under fast.

"That blue button on the wall there," Katrina pointed behind Danny, "push that now!" As Danny pushed the button to alert of the emergency, Mac watched Katrina climb onto the gurney and kneel over Flack. She began pumping on his chest, doing CPR as if her own left depended on it, not Flack's.

He didn't know how long he was holding his breath as he stood there watching, wishing there was something he could do. When a handful of doctors and nurses came running down the hall, Danny and Mac stepped back against the wall and let them work.

As the medical team were talking and rushing down the hall once again, Mac heard them say they were headed back to the ICU.

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I had woken up early on my third day in the ICU and I was glad to hear that although I was in rough shape, the only reason they hadn't moved me to recovery was because I was still sleepin' away.

With some convincing from Katrina and some substitutes on the breakfast tray, I managed to eat a little. Then we talked shop about my injuries. I was told I had to have surgery to repair my badly shattered ankle and that I also had several broken ribs, a hairline fracture in my pelvis, and a mild concussion. I felt pretty lucky to be alive after hearing what had happened to the church and decided that months in rehab would definitely be manageable since someone had obviously been watching out for me.

After sitting up in bed for half an hour, I began to get pretty uncomfortable and I was given more pain killers and told to rest for a while.

When I woke up again, Katrina told me it was time to start getting ready for my transfer. I didn't realize there was much to get ready. I couldn't get up to use the bathroom, I didn't have any belongings to gather, I couldn't see anyone until I was out anyway…what's to get ready?

When I said all of this to Katrina, she laughed and rolled her eyes. She handed me a clipboard with some forms to sign, briefly summarizing what all of them said as she realized it was obvious I had no desire to read ten pages; I trusted these folks were going to take care of me. If not, well, I was lucky to make it this far. Once the forms were signed, she began switching out my monitors and machines for smaller, more portable ones. Then she put an oxygen tank under the head of my bed and what looked like a tackle box at my feet, explaining it was emergency drugs. Who knew a walk down the hall could be such a process?

The doctor came by to tell me that my care would be passed along to another doctor on the new floor and that he wished me well. After shaking my hand he headed out into the waiting room to tell whoever was out there that I was leaving now.

A few minutes later, Katrina and I made our way through the ICU exit doors and I felt like I was breathing fresh air again. When I saw Mac and Danny there, I wasn't surprised at all, but I certainly was happy. It was good to see Danny with my own two eyes, even though I had been told that he had made it out okay. I just needed to see for myself. And I needed to see familiar faces.

As we made our way down the hall, I tried to ignore the spinning sensation in my head. I had been through hell the last couple days, and after having my bell rung, I was sure a little uneasiness was to be expected. But as I started to feel very lightheaded and lose control of my posture, I started to change my mind.

The last thing I heard as my eye fell closed and the world went black was the panicked alarm from my own heart monitor.


	4. Chapter 4

Lindsay hadn't moved from her seat next to Danny since she got back to the ICU waiting room. He hadn't said a word to her, and she hadn't really expected him to. When Mac called her, his voice was filled with panic, which immediately caused Lindsay's heart to fill with dread. She had rushed to the hospital and was immediately embraced by Danny without a word.

Mac had told her a few minutes later that Flack's heart had stopped for a short time and the doctor wasn't sure why yet.

So they were sitting, once again, outside the ICU waiting for news on their friend.

As Lindsay sat holding Danny's hand, her mind raced. She thought about how hard Flack fought to make it through his first three days in the hospital, how the doctors constantly reminded her and her friends that Flack was strong and his body was doing everything to recover from his injuries.

She thought back to all the times working in the field that she had watched a colleague, friend, loved one get hurt on the job and had to sit by as doctors worked to heal them. And she worried that this was going to be one of the times that the doctors weren't going to be able to do enough. She wasn't sure she would be able to deal with that.

Since she moved to New York, Flack had become one of her closest friends. And more importantly, Flack was Danny's best friend. If her boyfriend lost his best friend, she was sure he would never be the same. Nobody would.

The entire team was back in the room within minutes of each other, and they all sat unmoving. Time passed. Minutes, maybe hours, she couldn't really be sure. But the doctor walked through the doors once again, causing everyone to hold their breath. Each tried to read his expression, trying to figure out what news he held for them, what he knew of Flack's fate.

"Detectives," he nodded to the group. "I want you all to know that Detective Flack is stable, but in serious condition."

Lindsay felt Danny squeeze her hand tighter and she felt her chest constricting.

"It seems that he went into septic shock, probably from the extensive operation done to repair his lower extremity. We're treating the infection aggressively and watching his heart for any further signs of trouble."

As the doctor continued to explain Flack's condition, Lindsay watched Danny rise from his chair and stride across the room, out the doors. She quickly followed him, muttering an 'excuse me' as she walked in front of the group as they were speaking.

When she got to the hall, she saw Danny pacing up and down, glasses in his hand, rubbing his face.

"Danny."

"Don't Linds, please. I just…I don't wanna talk about it. I don't wanna talk 'bout him, or how he's strong and he'll make it, or whatever false hope you feel like giving me. I just don't want to hear anymore right now."

Lindsay slowly walked up in front of him, causing him to stop pacing. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, and let a tear fall to his shirt. "I'm scared too."

--

After two days of keeping vigil in the uncomfortable waiting room, the team was given the news that Flack was awake once again. The doctor told them that his lab work looked promising and it seemed that he was fighting off the infection remarkably fast.

Lindsay let a tear fall as Danny pulled her close and they continued to listen.

"He's still very sick and in pain, but he's awake, and his heart looks strong. I'm hoping that he'll be out of here soon enough."

Lindsay smiled as she thought about how tough Flack was. She had no doubt in her mind that he was doing fine and that he would be out in no time.

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When I woke up, I thought I was in some kind of nightmare. Every second that I felt myself coming around, I felt more and more like I wanted to die. I felt like I couldn't breathe and every time I tried to move a single cell, I felt like I was being crushed by an 18-wheeler.

I could hear monitors beeping around me, and as I felt my heart pounding all the way up to my ears, I realized I could hear the same rhythm somewhere nearby on a machine.

I felt like I wasn't even in my own body. Everything about me felt foreign.

I struggled to open my eyes and wanted to cry out when I had to work so hard at it. When I was finally able to see out just a little, I realized why I couldn't breathe; there was a tube running from my mouth to a hose attached to something next to the bed. I wasn't breathing at all; a machine was doing that for me.

As I worked to raise my arm to find a call button, I felt my hand stop. Something was pushing against it. I tried to move the other arm but it stopped as well. I began to panic, worry gripping my body as I thought about what happened, trying to remember anything that could have gotten me to where I was now. But nothing was registering in my mind. I could form no coherent thoughts and I was rapidly losing my ability to stay calm.

I could hear my heart monitor picking up speed next to me, and felt my blood rushing through every ache in my body.

Just when I felt like my heart was going to explode under the pressure, someone stepped up next to my bed and looked down over me. I felt a hand stroking my hair and I recognized the sympathetic face offering me comfort. "Don, take it easy. I'm gonna give you something to help you relax."

She stepped away from my line of sight for a moment, and by the time she came back a few seconds later, I could already feel the effects of whatever medication she had given me.

I opened my mouth to thank her but she shook her head. "You can't talk. You were intubated."

I closed my eyes in defeat and only nodded my head weakly.

"Do you remember who I am?"

I nodded again.

"Don, you had a very serious blood infection from your surgery that caused your heart to stop a couple days ago. We had to bring you back to the ICU," Katrina explained.

I closed my eyes and felt a tear fall to the side of my face. When I felt something touching my hand, I opened my eyes once again.

Katrina looked at me as she removed the restraints from my wrists. "Don't go doing something crazy like trying to pull that tube out. I'll put 'em right back on." She reached over to the bedside table and grabbed something, resting it awkwardly under my hand. She took a pen from her pocket and put it in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. "You can write if you have something to say."

With a little help, I managed to write 'tube out?' on the paper under my hand and waited as Katrina deciphered it. She looked at me and smiled sympathetically. "Hopefully the tube can come out later tonight, now that you're awake. We have to give you a little time to work some of the medications out of your system so your lungs will work like they should."

I wrote 'can't breathe' and waited for the same apologetic reply. Instead, she stepped out of my line of sight for a minute. When she returned, she moved my bedside table and set a small fan down on it, positioning it at my face and turning it on low. When she returned above my bed, she raised an eyebrow. "This usually helps. It'll make you feel a little more like you're breathing on your own."

I blinked to wet my eyes as the fan blew over my face and imagined the air blowing into my lungs, providing me with life-giving oxygen. Just as Katrina turned to leave, I grabbed her hand to get her attention once more. She stood silently as I wrote slowly on my paper again and smiled when she picked it up. "You're welcome, Don."

--

I thought being extubated was going to be easy. Just one, two, three, done, like on TV. I was seriously mistaken.

It was a long and drawn out process, nearly an hour from start to finish.

I had been awake for a while, told that I wouldn't be given anymore drugs until it was time to take the tube out. The procedure was explained to me but I didn't imagine it being very daunting; there was a lot of talk of sedatives and narcotics. So I was left to wait for the time being; left to wait for the signal from my body that it was time to start getting better.

I felt more pain in my chest as the muscle relaxers began to wear off and there was a sudden constricting that made me wish I was no longer breathing all together. An alarm went off over my bed as the painful tightening in my chest continued. I gripped the rails of my bed with all my strength and fought against the coughing and choking that my body was screaming to do so urgently.

Katrina was at my side in a matter of seconds. "Don, I need you to try to relax." She pulled a syringe from her pocket and injected something into my IV, which immediately calmed me. She raised the bed up a little bit and I was finally able to see the room from an upright angle once again. "That's only going to last a few minutes. Then you're going to start feeling your chest tightening up again. Your body is fighting with the vent now."

I nodded an understanding to her as she began pushing buttons on machines and messing with things around my bed. She told me she was going to get the doctor and that she would be back in just a minute. When she returned, Dr. Hardey walked in behind her smiling. "Detective Flack," his voice was ever-professional, "time to show us what you're made of."

I watched as the pair settled on either side of me. The doctor unhooked the tube from the vent so air was no longer being forced into my body. Katrina used a syringe to deflate the balloon holding the tube in place then reached for the suction machine on the wall.

"Okay Don, remember what I told you. Think of something that gets you out of here for a while. You've been on the vent for a couple days and you've got several broken ribs. Your first few breaths are gonna hurt like hell but I need you to give it all you've got."

I made eye contact with her, then with Dr. Hardey before resting my head back into my pillow and nodding that I was ready.

"Take a deep breath in," I could hear the doctor say over my distant thoughts, "and blow out hard."

As I exhaled, I felt like my lungs were being ripped from my body. The tube scratched my throat all the way out and I coughed and gagged as I tried to keep focused on being anywhere but lying in a hospital bed. Katrina adjusted an oxygen mask over my face as I continued to strain taking deep breaths.

Taking myself out of my situation, out of my body and the pain I was in, out of the hospital, I thought about my friends, the last time we all spent quality time together. Thanksgiving last year. Everyone had to work, so we had a potluck dinner. As we sat around the table in the lab's break room, we all laughed and had a great time. And when Stella put her arm around my shoulder, laughing her infectious laugh, I knew I would remember that day forever.

Wishing I had my friends with me once again, I struggled to breathe and will my body to get better. I wanted them with me to assure me that I was going to get through this.

After fifteen minutes, my blood oxygen saturation was stable and I was exhausted. Katrina patted my arm and turned out the light. "You've made it this far, Don. It can't get much worse now."


	5. Chapter 5

*I'm a little hesitant to post another chapter since there has been very little feedback as of late. I don't know if you all have stopped reading or just stopped telling me about it. But I'd really like to know what you like, what you don't like, what's right, what's wrong, what's working for you, how you feel about it, anything at all. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'll stop posting if nobody's reading…

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Jess smiled as she signed the card that had been floating around the precinct for her partner. She tucked it into the envelope and sealed it before sticking it into a box with a few magazines, a book, and a couple candy bars of his preference.

She had made arrangements with his doctor after a lot of begging and pleading to see him that afternoon and thought she should put together a care package because she knew it would be at least a few days before she saw him again.

When she got to the ICU, she checked in and scrubbed before walking down the row to his bed.

She saw him trying to get comfortable in the small bed when she walked up. But when she stepped in front of his bed, he turned his head slowly and smiled.

"Hey Jess." He turned and tried to reposition himself a little bit so that he was sitting up better. "Wow, I can't believe they let you in here."

"Not without a little convincing. You owe me." She placed the box on his bed next to him and watched as he opened it.  
"Oh, you have no idea." His eyes widened as he took out one of the candy bars. "They think this stuff is the devil's food around here." They both laughed as he moved the box to the table and opened his treat.

"So how ya feelin'?"

"Pretty good, actually." He pointed up to the analgesic pump next to the bed. "That may have a lot to do with the really good drugs, but I'm okay with that."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," she nodded.

"How is everybody?" Flack asked when they had been sitting silently for several moments.

"Everyone's good. Better knowing that you're okay."

He shrugged, placing his half eaten snack on his table. "Tell 'em all not to worry so much. I'm fine. Lookin' at a lot of therapy, but I'd say I got lucky."

Before she could rebut his use of the term 'lucky', there was a loud snort and rapid movement from the bed next to them. Jess jerked her head quickly toward the sound but Flack only sat still as he pushed his call button.

When the nurse got to his bed Flack pointed to the bed next to his and said simply that Mr. Karchinsky was having nightmares again. The nurse nodded and made her way over to the neighboring bed, pulling the curtain behind her.

Jess turned back to Flack with a worried look. "That happen a lot?"

"He's been having a lot of nightmares the last couple days."

"At three in the afternoon?"

Flack shrugged.

"I suppose I'd be a little crazy too if I was stuck in a place like this for too long."

"Thanks for the words of encouragement," Flack rolled his eyes.

"You're getting out of here soon, Don. Don't worry."

Flack smiled up at her as she rose from where she was perched on the edge of the bed. "I know. And thanks for bein' here with me."

"I'll see ya soon."

"See ya, Jess," Flack said with a sigh, resting back into his pillows, and trying to get comfortable once again.

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Boredom. That's a nice way to put what I was experiencing. Nobody did anything in the ICU. It was all sleep and pain medication and vital signs.

After I finished my lunch, I turned on the TV again, fading in to the world of Judge Judy. At some point, I realized two hours had passed with mindless programs and I decided to turn the damn thing off and go back to sleep. Rest, that's what they kept telling me to do.

Just as I pulled my sheet up over my chest, a familiar face walked up to the foot of my bed. I could see my partner's smile, even behind the mask they made her wear, and suddenly my gloomy day was looking up.

Jess made herself at home perching on the side of my bed. She offered out the small box she had carried in with her before she began speaking and I snacked on a candy bar as I listened to her talk. We didn't have much to say; I guess we didn't need to. But it felt great to hear her voice, to hear someone talking about something besides medicine. And I never thought so much about how incredibly lucky I was to have a friend like her, someone who would arm-twist a doctor into letting her in, even after she had worked a 12-hour day.

I knew she couldn't stay long, but I wanted to be selfish and keep her with me a little longer so I could hear more about everyone. I didn't stop her when she stood to though. She had to get home. And a hospital wasn't a fun place to be hanging out. I smiled and thanked her for coming to see me, wishing I could put into words just how much her friendship meant to me.

After she walked out of sight, I sank back into my bed, loneliness already threatening to creep in again. As I pulled up the sheet once more, I thought of my partner, my friend, and hoped that maybe now I could sleep more soundly.


	6. Chapter 6

She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and settled back into the couch. Just as her movie began to play, her cell phone rang on the table.

"Of course," she mumbled to herself as she rose to answer it. "Why wouldn't I be called in on my first night off all week at midnight." But when she looked at the screen, it wasn't an NYPD number. She recognized it only as a hospital number. "Bonasera," she answered hesitantly.

There was no answer on the other end, just soft breathing as though someone was waiting. She was about to speak again when she heard a sigh.

"Hey Stell."

"Don?"

"Yeah."

When he didn't say anything else, she began to worry. "Don, is everything okay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

She could hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone along with his movements and her heart skipped a beat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. I just…I thought we could talk."

"It's nearly midnight. Just felt like chatting?"

There was a long pause at the other end before he spoke again. "I can't sleep. Been sleepin' so much during the day that I'm not tired at night." He paused again. "So I thought I could call a friend."

"Of course you can," she replied quickly, realizing from his tone he was feeling unsure. "So how are you?"

"I don't want to talk about me. Every time I talk to somebody, it's about me and being injured." He took a deep breath. "How are you, Stell? Didn't sound like you were sleepin'. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. For once, everything is good. I've got the night off. I was just indulging in a late night movie."

"Oh," his voice dropped. "Well don't let me keep you. You should…"

"Don," Stella cut him off, "I'd rather talk to you."

She heard muffled shuffling noises and waited. "So how's work been lately? Anything I've missed out on?"

Stella noticed a sadness in his voice, but invited the subject change; that's what he wanted. "It's been busy. But nothing too out of the ordinary." Stella talked about her cases and days at work like normal, giving him all the detail she could. She wanted him to remember why he was working toward a quick recovery.

After they spoke for half an hour, Stella could hear Flack's breathing change, becoming heavier and more labored. She knew that he had to be wearing out after talking for so long, as he probably hadn't done so in the two days since he'd woken up. "Flack, you sound pretty beat. Maybe I should let you go so you can rest a while."

After a short pause, he sighed. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for…thanks, Stella."

"Anytime. Day or night."

"Goodnight Stella."

"Goodnight Don." Stella waited a moment to listen for a click on the other end of the line, but after a few long seconds, she gave in and hung up first.

She knew her friend was having a hard time and she wished there was more she could do for him. Being alone in a hospital was a scary feeling.

No longer wanting to watch a movie, Stella resolved to go to bed. She turned off the TV and flipped off the light as she made her way down the hall. After she brushed her teeth, she padded in the darkness toward the bed. Slipping off her socks and crawling between the sheets, Stella tried to get comfortable enough to sleep.

But as she tossed and turned, she couldn't take her thoughts off Flack.

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When I woke from my nap, I could see the lights on in the room, the glaring bright fluorescent lights, and all of the neatly made beds around me. Something felt strange; it was too quiet. I looked around at all of the machines and monitors that usually kept time with everybody's own rhythms, but they were all silent. The monitors were blank and tucked away in corners.

Starting to feel my heart race, I pushed the call button on the side of my bed. But minutes passed and nobody came. "Katrina?" I called out. "Katrina, I need help. Somebody, please." Nobody responded and I could feel terror climbing up my throat like bile.

I hadn't been able to walk since I came to the hospital, and I feared that if I got out of bed, my legs would give away beneath me. But I didn't have a choice. I was all alone. I flipped the blankets back and prepared myself for what I was about to see: I hadn't actually seen my bruised and battered legs yet because I couldn't sit up far enough. But when I looked down, my legs looked completely normal. I didn't understand. But knowing I had to get out and find people, I didn't really care much.

Swinging my legs around the side of the bed, I stood slowly, unsure if I could still do it. Once I was steady, I started to make my way to the door. Only…I wasn't moving. I looked down at my feet as they began to disappear into a puddle of quicksand. I thought about every movie I ever saw where they always said don't struggle, but I was scared as I began to sink deeper into the nothingness. "Katrina!" I called out again. "Somebody, please!"

But as I fought to keep my head up, I realized nobody was coming.

--

I woke with a start as I felt a cool towel being pressed to my forehead and a soft hand on my bare shoulder. Everything around me was cloudy for a moment as I tried to get my eyes to focus. When I finally looked up, I saw Katrina hovering over me, whispering my name.

"Don? Don, can you look at me? Don, wake up for me." I managed to meet her eyes and she smiled. "You still with me?"

I nodded my head slightly and cleared my throat, it felt dry and scratchy. "What's goin' on?"

"You were having a nightmare." She reached down to press the button that raised my head. "Looked like a doozy. Do you remember anything?"

I shook my head and gasped at the pain the movement caused.

Katrina squeezed my shoulder lightly. "You were moving around a lot. Probably woke up a few of those broken ribs."

I groaned and tried to breathe slowly. After several minutes, I felt like I was finally getting air in my lungs again and looked up at her, the feeling of her hand still on my skin. "What happened to my gown?"

She smirked as she reached toward the end of my bed. She held up the garment I had been wearing, a small tear in the front and the snaps on the sleeves undone. "You went Incredible Hulk on it."

I smirked as well, but forced myself not to laugh, knowing the pain it would cause. "Musta been one helluvua dream."

Katrina grinned and raised her eyebrows as she adjusted the oxygen tubing around my ears. "You were also calling out my name. Anything you want to tell me, Detective?"

I'm sure every bit of my exposed skin turned red. But before I had a chance to make some kind of hazy comeback, I remembered…something. "I was here," I blurted it out as fast as I remembered it. Her expression sobered as she listened to me. "And I was completely alone. I was calling out for help."

I put my hand over hers on the edge of the bed. "I think you came just in time."

Katrina shook her head. "I don't believe people die when they die in their dreams."

"I don't really want to find out."

Katrina nodded. Once I closed my eyes again, she let go of my hand and began moving around my bed quietly. I heard her leave a minute later, and opened my eyes when I heard her return. She held up the clean, folded hospital gown and grinned. I did my best to sit up as she helped me put it on.

"Why do you do this?" I asked as she pressed the small snaps together on the sleeves.

"I like people," she said simply. And her smile, the same one she offered me time after time, told me that was the honest truth.

"But why here, in the ICU?" I questioned. "Wouldn't you rather be taking care of kids or something?"

She tied the back of the gown behind my neck and pulled it so it was loose over the front of my body before standing straight by the side of my bed. "Kids are hard. This is hard too, but…it's where I fit."

She was right about that. I had met a lot of medical professionals in my time on the force, more than I wanted to. And there was always a distinct difference between the ones who knew the science and wanted a paycheck and the ones who knew where they belonged and got in touch with their patients. That's also how I knew that when her pager went off right then, there were other people who needed her more than I did, even if I was bored stiff.

She looked down at her pager quickly, then right back at me, her face assuring me I still had her attention. "You should get that."

"Do you need anything else before I go?"

"Yeah, actually, could you bring my phone over here please?"

She moved my phone from the table by the wall to the table over my bed where I could reach it easily. "No prank phone calls that could be traced back," she said with a wink, before walking away.

I chuckled lightly as I watched her walk quickly down the hall. When she was out of sight, I picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

When I heard her voice on the other end, I couldn't speak. I don't know why, either. I've talked to her on the phone more times than I could ever imagine, but something about hearing her voice just then, it made me freeze up. Why am I calling her? But then my speech came back to me and I managed to say hello.

We talked for half an hour about work, and it made me miss it so much more than I realized I had. But she sounded so delightful talking about how hard everyone had been working. I missed that. I missed being out of this room, where my real life took place.

I was starting to feel tired, well, exhausted, after sitting up and talking for so long. And I guess she figured that out. Somewhere inside, I was begging her to stay on the phone just a little longer, hoping she would know just how much I needed to talk to her, to hear her voice. But she said goodnight, and I did the same. I waited, hoping maybe she would stay and talk; I just wanted one more minute, two. Then I heard a soft sigh and the phone click on the other end.

A minute later, I hung up too. I was alone again. This place was starting to feel like the quicksand in my dream; I was sure it was going to swallow me up at any minute, and nobody would be here to pull me out.


	7. Chapter 7

Danny excused himself from the scene as his phone rang for the third time in five minutes. He looked at the display, the same number, and answered it. "Messer."

"Danny?" Flack's voice sounded panicked.

"Yeah, Flack, what's up?"

"Danny, can you come over here?"

"Flack, I'm workin', man. Besides, you know I can't come in there. Family only."

"Stella did. Jess did. You're more family than they are. Or at least I thought you were." His words came quick, his breath in short gasps.

"Whoa, slow down." Danny walked to his vehicle where it was quiet and leaned against the side. "What's going on?"

"I need you to come get me," he said in a low voice.

"I told ya, I can't come in there. You're being moved to your new room in two days. I'll come see you then. I promise."

"No, Danny. You gotta get me outta here. They're never gonna let me leave and go back to my real life. They're just gonna keep me here forever."

Danny didn't like the way his friend sounded. This wasn't like him at all. "What makes you think that? Mac talked to the doctor yesterday; he said you were doing well and were just about ready to be transferred."

Flack sighed on the other end. "That's just what they want you to believe. I was ready to get outta here days ago."

Danny cut him off. "I watched you go into cardiac arrest days ago." He tried to reason with him, remind him why he was there, but nothing seemed to help.

"Please don't argue with me about this. Just get me out of here so we can talk. I need to get out of here before they do anything else to me."  
With a sigh, Danny nodded, though he knew his friend couldn't see the gesture. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Thanks Danny. And hurry."

Lindsay walked up as Danny was hanging up the phone. "Hey, I was wondering where you took off to." But when she saw the crestfallen look on his face as he began to dial the phone again, she put a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

He put the phone to his ear and shook his head. "Flack. He just called me." His face changed again as someone answered on the other end. "Yes, this is Danny Messer. I'm calling about Detective Don Flack." Pause. "He just called me a few minutes ago and I'm worried about him." Pause. "Well, he kept sayin' things about how you're never gonna let him out and how he wanted me to come get him. He sounded panicked and worried and…paranoid. He just didn't sound good. I'm a little worried he might try to do something crazy like gettin' out of bed and end up hurting himself more." He rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Thanks, I appreciate that." He hung up and sighed, leaning his head back against the truck. After standing silently for a moment, he shook his head. "I don't know what happened." He opened his eyes to look at Lindsay, who had been trying to wait patiently for information. "He just called and started freakin' out on me. Said I needed to come get him." He stuffed his phone into his pocket as he pushed himself away from the truck. "They said they'd go check on him, make sure he was safe."

"Being in a place like that for so long is probably starting to stress him out." She took his hand. "I'm sure he's fine, Danny. Call him back after work and remind him that we're all still here for him and that we miss him."

888888888888888

When Danny hung up, I sank into the bed for a moment. I knew he wasn't coming; he only said that to please me. Deciding I had to do something, I sat up again and pushed the table away. Sitting up to push the blankets back, my chest ached terribly. And when I saw the cast on my leg with several pins sticking out the sides, I was certain something was wrong. I was about to call out, to find out what was going on. I wanted to know who had done all of this to me. But I saw someone coming toward me just as I sat up.

"Don, what are you doing? You need to stay in bed."

"No, I need to get out of here before you make me any worse." As I tried swinging my feet around the side of the bed, if felt like more work than it should have been. My whole upper body groaned in protest at the motion and I was anchored everywhere by wires and tubes. I began pulling, trying to free myself of everything that held me in place. The oxygen tubing was easy, as were the EKG leads attached to my chest. The woman by my bed tried to stop me, holding my hands away from my body, but I struggled against her. When she saw it was no use, she let go of me and called for help. As I finished pulling the EKG leads from my skin, somebody ran up. The woman told her to get something, it sounded like a medication, but I decided I would be long gone before I found out what it was. I grabbed the IV on the back of my hand and gave a quick pull, causing the bandage to tear and blood to run down my fingers. Free of my restraints, I started to slide forward again, holding on to the rail for support. Then I felt something else pulling against me in the most uncomfortable way ever. This didn't hurt like the rest of my body did, but it certainly wasn't right. When I tried to move again, I felt the pulling sensation in my groin and began to struggle to find whatever was causing it. I pulled the hospital gown up to find the tube that was intruding my body and untangled it from my leg, holding it straight out in front of me. I frowned as I grabbed it tightly and got ready to remove it like the rest.

But then the woman who had been standing nearby stepped forward just a few inches. "If you plan to have sex again in the next decade, I would advise against that." I glared up at her, still holding the tube in my hand. "You'll regret it."

I gave the tube a light pull; she was right. I was not about to do that to myself. "Take it out."

She took a step back. "Detective, you need to leave the foley in."

I stood quickly from the bed, bearing my weight on my uninjured leg, but every inch of my body still crying out in pain. "I said take it out."

She straightened her shoulders and planted her feet, but I could tell she was nervous. Good, if that's what it took for me to get out of here. "I should probably get you a local anesthetic. It'll be uncomfortable."

"I don't care. Just take the damn tube out."

"Fine." She reached into a container on the wall and took out a syringe, holding it out to show it to me. "I have to deflate the balloon that's holding it in."

I nodded and she knelt in front of me. Just then, the woman from before came back with a syringe and needle. I assumed it was that drug they were talking about before. I tried to step back a little, but as the nurse held the tube anchored inside my body, I stood motionless. "Take that away, whatever it is."

"It'll help with your pain," she said, looking up at me.

"I don't believe you. Nobody has told me the truth since I got here. Why should I believe you?"

"Detective Flack, I promise you this medicine will help you with your pain." She stood, not having finished what she had started before. She held out her hand and the medicine was passed to her.

For just a moment, I felt like I recognized this woman. She had a comforting face that I felt like I had seen so many times before. But all these doctors and nurses looked the same, and they all wanted the same thing; they just wanted to keep me here. "I don't want the drugs. I just want to leave."

But before I could say anything more, the needle was in my thigh. I lashed out, grabbing her arm and pulling her violently toward me. "I said no…" And then the room began to spin out of control.


	8. Chapter 8

*So sorry about the delayed reaction in chapter posting this week. I've been sick and just plum forgot to post on Tuesday. Somebody please feel free to poke me if I should ever forget again; fic is a nice distraction on sick days.

"It's called ICU psychosis, Detective Taylor," the doctor began. "It's a delirium that occurs commonly among patients who stay in the intensive care unit for extended periods."  
Mac sat back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was already stressed; now the worry that something else was happening to Flack was causing his head to pound.

"I don't understand. He doesn't have any family history of mental illness. Or any himself."

"It's not a mental illness, per se. It's only temporary. It's a direct result of a combination of medications, abnormal sleeping patterns, lack of contact with family and friends. Unfortunately, because of the way intensive care is run, it throws people very far out of their normal routines and the mind fights back."

He sighed. "Okay, so what do you do to make him better?"

"Right now, we have him sedated, to help him rest and to keep him and my staff safe. I'll wake him up in the morning and have his sleep regulated for twenty-four hours to start getting him back in a normal pattern, then send him to the medical floor. I'll also have some of his medications adjusted. Hopefully between that and some familiar faces, the delirium should wear off in no time."

"He's not supposed to go to his new room for a couple days. Is he strong enough?"

"He got out of bed and fought off a nurse. He's just fine," the doctor chuckled.

Mac grinned slightly. "Just take good care of him, Doctor."

"He'll be good as new."

They said goodbye and Mac hung up the phone before resting his head back in his chair. There was a light knock at the door a minute later, causing him to lift his head and focus on work again.

"Sleeping on the job," Hawkes asked.

"Just trying to keep my head on straight. What do you know about ICU psychosis?"

"The only cases I ever saw were text book; nightmares and trouble sleeping, delirium, hallucination, combative behavior, paranoia. Why?"

"You just described Flack." When Sheldon's eyes went wide, Mac shook his head. "He's been sedated. I just got off the phone with the doctor. Apparently Flack has been a textbook case of this ICU-induced delirium."

The younger man scrunched his brow as he perched on the edge of the desk. "How bad was he?"

Mac sighed heavily. "Well, apparently he called Danny trying to plan an escape because he claimed he was being held captive and mistreated. When that didn't work, he tried getting out of bed by himself. He gave the nurses a good run for their money and had to be given enough ativan to drop an elephant."

"Wow," Hawkes raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty wild. The doctor mention treatment options?"

"Yeah, they're hoping to have him adjusted in the next couple days. And he's going to be sent to the medical floor early to help with recovery."

"Good. I'll spread the word, tell everyone he can start having a few visitors again."

"Thanks, Sheldon."

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Pain. That's what woke me up. Extreme pain in every cell of my body. I opened my eyes and realized I was still in the hospital. I could feel the restraints on my arms and I knew I wasn't going anywhere but I didn't know why I was being held hostage to begin with.

"Katrina," I called out.

She came to my bedside a minute later, looking down at me with a smile. "Don, good to see you again."

"When can I go home?"

"When you're strong enough." She elevated the head of the bed and held a cup to my lips. "You should drink something. You've been out for over eleven hours."

I took a drink and gasped at how much even that hurt. "I need more pain medication. It's not working like it did before."

"You're not on the same medication. You were taken off your narcotics."

"I'm in pain. I need pain medication."

"Don, you had a psychotic episode yesterday, something we call ICU psychosis. And part of what set it off was the narcotics in your system."

I shook my head. I was not going to let her stand there and tell me I was crazy. "No. I was mad because I'm tired of being here. I just wanted someone to help me get out of here so I could go home." That's when it all came rushing back to me. I looked at her arm and grimaced. Peeking out beneath the sleeve of her pink scrub top was a dark blue bruise, shaped horribly like a hand. "I'm sorry," was all I could manage. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know…"

"Hey," she said in her soft voice, the one that was always comforting, placing her hand on my shoulder, "Already forgotten. I'm just glad we got you to bed when we did." She looked toward my feet. "No telling how much damage you might have done if you had gotten away."

"Feels like I broke it all over again."

"No real harm done. But you really tested out the titanium pins holding it all together."

"I'm paying for it now."

"I'll get you something for the pain."

"Thanks." She turned to walk away but I just managed to reach out and grab her hand, pulling against my restraints. "Thank you for everything."  
She nodded and gave me half a smile, before squeezing my hand gently and turning to leave once again.

--

At lunch time, the restraints were taken off my arms and a 'sitter' watched me eat my lunch.

"Hey kid," I spoke up to get the attention of the 20-year-old reading in the chair by the wall. He looked up at me. "Why this? Watching crazy folks?"

He stuck his bookmark in his book and closed it in his lap. "I don't think you're crazy. Your nurse, the blonde, told me you just had to be watched for a few hours because you have a temporary delirium. I'm just supposed to make sure you don't do anything crazy like try to get out of bed or pull out your foley." He cringed at the last part and I laughed.

"Believe me, I'll be doing neither of those." I took a drink and looked at him again. "So why this? Wouldn't you rather work at a club or ballpark or somethin'?"

He shrugged. "I took this job a couple years ago because I needed the money and didn't have experience doing anything. But now, I really like it. It pays the bills and I meet interesting people. Not everyone I watch is a psych patient." He gestured at me. "You for example, you're a regular guy who just happens to be a victim of this place. So I'll do what I'm told and sit here with you, but as far as I can tell, the antipsychotic drugs are working fine and you'll be out of here in no time."

I smiled. I liked this kid; he was smart. And we talked for the next hour.

--

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I hadn't been allowed to sleep in order to help me get back to a regular sleeping pattern. By 8 pm, I was never more glad to hear the words 'bed time.' Someone came in to help me get washed up a bit in bed and adjusted all of my tubes and the like so I could get comfortable. Within a matter of minutes, I was settling down in the dark of my curtain-contained area, thinking about moving out of the ICU for good first thing in the morning. That thought filled my consciousness as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

"Knock, knock," came a soft flirty voice from the doorway.

Flack smiled as he lifted his arm a little to wave her in. "Hey, Stell. What are you doin' here?"

She walked in the room and sat carefully next to him on the bed. "Haven't you heard? Out here in the real world, you actually get visitors." She placed a bag on his table. "And burgers."

"Yeah, I almost forgot what it was like to see people." He opened the bag and took out the cheeseburger. "And real food. Thank you."

She smiled at his excitement. "You're very welcome. So when are you getting out of here for good?"

"Don't know for sure yet. I have to meet with the physical therapist. Who's actually supposed to be here any time."

Right on cue, there was a knock at the door and a man walked in with a young woman following close behind.

"You must be the folks from therapy."

"You must be Don Flack," the man reached out to shake his hand. "I'm James. This is Maria."

"You're the ones who're gonna get me outta here, right?"

"That's what we're here to find out." James moved the table away from the bed and glanced to make sure everything was clear of the space around them. "Okay, all we're gonna do to start out is have you sit up on the side of the bed, hopefully by yourself."

Stella stood back against the wall and watched as Flack slowly maneuvered until he had managed to turn himself until his feet were hanging down to the floor and he was sitting up as James instructed, holding onto the bedrail as he caught his breath. "Who ever thought that would be such a workout?"

"It's good though. You need to work the muscles in your chest and back again. With your broken ribs and trauma to your pelvis, it's easy to avoid movement all together to avoid pain. But that's damaging to the muscles."

"So what's next?" he asked, looking between them.

Maria pushed the table back up to him and smiled. "Why don't you finish your lunch, sitting up here. We need to hunt down a taller pair of crutches for you."

He grinned and nodded as they left the room.

Once they left, Stella pushed herself away from the corner she had been hiding in and sat down next to Flack once again. "Pretty impressive for a guy with a couple broken ribs."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get out of here."

They chatted mindlessly as he ate his lunch and waited for the physical therapists to return. After he had been waiting for nearly 45 minutes, Flack sighed and leaned forward on his arms against the table. "I wish they'd hurry up."

Stella's face saddened. She knew he was in pain, though he would never admit how much. "You should lay back. Rest."

"No, I need to get my strength back."

She stood and slowly guided his arms off the table so she could take it away from him. "That won't happen overnight. Don't push it. Just rest until they come back."

Giving in, he let her guide him back onto his pillows as she arranged them behind his back. "Thanks," he whispered.

She nodded and was about to pull up a chair next to his bed when she stopped and did a double take. Her eyes landed on his bare chest, which she had been trying to avoid since she walked in. She figured he was more comfortable without a shirt and left it alone, but she noticed something now. Moving back to the side of his bed, she gently placed her hand on his chest and frowned. "What's this?" She carefully traced the outline of what looked like a burn. She could figure out how all the painfully ugly bruises had gotten there, but the burn didn't make sense.

He looked down at her hand. "When they, uh, had to restart my heart, the defibrillator burned me a little." When he looked up to meet her eyes, he saw pain and worry. He shook his head. "It doesn't hurt."

She let her fingertips linger on his skin a moment longer before pulling away. "It was scary enough knowing you were injured, and so sick, but not being able to see you or hear how you were really doing. We just kept getting updates over the phone." She sat down in the chair and looked into Flack's eyes, waiting for something there to tell her she was just dreaming. But she wasn't. She knew it when he covered her hand with his on the side of the bed.

"I'm better now. That's what matters, right?"

A small smile came to her lips as she nodded.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Maria returned, alone this time.

"Sorry it took so long. There was an emergency and I couldn't get away."

"That's okay. Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"Where's your partner?" Stella wondered aloud as she stepped away from the bed.

"He had to be somewhere else. But it's not really necessary for two of us to be here. We usually only double up for initial assessment. Don is strong; he won't need two therapists breathing down his neck." She looked to Flack lying back in his bed. "Ready to try standing?"

He began sitting up again, grunting a little at the way his ribs protested. "Ready for anything that gets me out of this bed."

Once he was sitting on the side of the bed, Maria balanced the crutches against the table and leaned in front of him. She reached around his back with a sturdy white belt and secured it at his front, making sure it was snug around his waist. Grabbing the crutches and standing them in front of him, he reached out and held them.

"Now, you can't bear full weight on your broken ankle. But you can balance and bear _some_ weight on it. You'll need to rely on the crutches, but with broken ribs and bruises everywhere, you're going to be tempted not to." She reached behind him and held the belt at his lower back. "That's why we're gonna do this nice and slow."

Stella held her breath as Flack leaned forward and pulled himself up with Maria's help. She could see pain in his eyes, written all over his face, but he remained silent, save for exhaling sharply once he was upright.

"Good. Great job, Don," Maria smiled up at him. Her right hand still on his lower back, gripped around the belt, she reached up with her left hand and placed it on his chest. "I need you to straighten your back for me, everything needs to be properly aligned." When he had done as she asked, she smiled again.

Stella crossed her arms as she watched the young therapist beaming proudly up at Flack.

"Okay, now why don't you try putting some weight on the crutches?"

Slowly, he tucked them under his arms and leaned his weight onto them, just a little, not quite trusting them to support him. He flinched in pain as his ribs moved to a new and very uncomfortable position. Taking a deep breath, he readjusted and tried it again. The result was the same, and he realized he was going to be in serious trouble if he couldn't manage to get around without his wheelchair.

"Isn't there something else besides the crutches?"

Stella sensed the desperation in his tone. It didn't sound like him at all. She almost wished she wasn't there because she was certain that he didn't want her to see him so vulnerable. But she couldn't move.

Maria shook her head. "You won't be able to use a cane while you've got the cast on, and a walker is going to hurt as well. If you don't think you can do this…"

"No," he cut her off sharply. "I can do it." He leaned forward on the crutches again and gripped the handles tight.

Stella watched as he clenched his jaw and every muscle in his body tensed with his movements.

But slowly, he made it across the room to the bathroom. Maria told him he had to prove he could make it to and from the toilet before she could sign off on his therapy, so he gritted his teeth and did as he was told.

When he walked back to his bed several minutes later, Maria tucked a pillow behind his head and pulled a blanket up over him. She said he was strong enough to go home in the morning if he was released by his doctors and gently squeezed his shoulder before she left the room.

Stella tensely moved back to the side of his bed and offered a smile. "Should I even ask how you feel right now?"

Flack sighed. "Well, I get to go home. So a little pain is worth it."

She forced out a laugh as she perched on the side of the bed. "A little pain? Don, how do you plan on taking care of yourself once you get home?"

"I'll manage." He shrugged.

"Or I could help you out until you can actually stand on your own two feet again. Literally."

He shook his head. "You got your own things to do besides taking care of me."

"I've got my friends to look out for. And you can't really try to tell me that you see yourself getting around without someone to hold you up." He glanced down and sighed. When she saw his expression change, she placed her hand over his. "It's okay to need some help. You've been through hell and back a couple times in the last ten days. Besides, I'm insisting. You're not getting away from me without accepting my offer."

He looked back up at her and smiled. "Well, then what choice do I have? But I have to warn you, putting up with me isn't going to be an easy task."

"I think I can manage."

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I would never want to put her out, but to be honest, I never wanted to turn down her offer.


	10. Chapter 10

"Party's here," Danny called out, as he walked into Flack's apartment.

"Come on in, man." Flack muted the TV and tried to turn around on the couch, but decided against it when he felt the ache in his ribs at the movement.

Danny and Lindsay walked into the living room and Flack smiled at the sight of their faces. It felt good to be able to see his friends again. Danny perched on the coffee table in front of him as Lindsay carefully sat at the end of the couch.

"Welcome home," Danny smiled. "How's it feel?"

"You can't imagine how glad I am to be back."

"I bet. So Stella's gonna whip you back into shape, huh?"

"Couldn't really talk her out of it."

Lindsay shook her head. "I doubt you tried hard."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She grinned and rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

He gave her a pointed look and turned back to Danny. "So, are we gonna watch the game on Friday?"

"Don't you have, like, therapy and stuff to be working on?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. But not all the time. I still have to rest to recover. And I don't even have my therapy schedule yet."

"So what do you plan on doing while you're stuck on sick leave?" Lindsay asked.

Flack shifted a little on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. When the act caused him pain, he flinched, and held his breath. Once he was finally settled again, he looked at Lindsay and rolled his eyes. "Well, seein' as how I can't even move two inches without pain runnin' through some part of my body, I'm guessing I won't be doing a whole lot for a while."

"Well, I think Adam mentioned something about bringing you his PS3 later," she grinned.

Flack chuckled.

"And at least you'll have Stella around to keep you company. Where is she anyway?" Danny shrugged.

"Went home to get some clothes and to the store to get food. The contents of my fridge turned very biohazardous while I was gone."

Lindsay scrunched her nose. "Yuck."

"Yeah. Imagine my surprise when I came home from the hospital and my kitchen smelled like feet. Stella went above and beyond to get that cleaned up for me. And so did you for savin' my ass," he nodded at Danny.

"What? No, I didn't do anything. The doctors…"

"The doctors get credit too. But if you hadn't gotten to me when the church collapsed, or called the doctor when I started actin' strange, I'd probably be a lot worse off." He reached out his open hand, which Danny immediately shook, in lieu of a brotherly hug, he knew. "Thanks for everything, man."

Danny waved him off. "Don't mention it."

"And sorry about freakin' ya out with the paranoid jailbreak phone call."

This time Danny grinned. "Now that you're okay and everything, I gotta say, that whole story is pretty funny."

Lindsay leaned forward and swatted him on the arm. "Danny."

"No, Linds, you haven't heard the whole story."

She raised an eyebrow at Flack and he sighed. "Well, it starts with the phone call I made to Danny that day and somehow ends with me giving half the ICU a good look at the full monty."

Lindsay laughed and shook her head. "Okay, I'm sorry, that's funny."

"Yeah, it is," he shrugged. "But I hurt a nurse in the process, and that part still gets under my skin. I don't know how to thank her for everything she did for me."

"I bet saying 'thank you' goes a really long way," Lindsay smiled.

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I never knew how great 'home sweet home' really was until I got home from the hospital. But the 'sweet' was short lived when I realized the food in my fridge had gone bad after being gone for so long. Stella cleaned the mess up for me – bless her – and helped me get settled before she left to run some errands. I sat on the couch and tried to catch up on some games my TiVo saved for me until I heard Danny and Lindsay walk through the front door. When we talked about my recovery and Stella staying with me, I saw the look Lindsay gave me. Women have that all-knowing look. And they usually know. She said nothing. And I know Danny missed the look.

They hung out with me for the rest of the day. I told them they didn't have to stay, but they did, and I'm glad. I really missed them. Being in the hospital made me more lonely than I realized.

A few hours later, they decided they should get going. Danny offered to help me to the bathroom before they left, which I was thankful for; it still seemed odd to ask for help for something I've never given a second thought to.

When I was alone again, I turned the TV back on for a while, but the noise wasn't the same as the sound of my friends' voices. I sighed and turned it off and got comfortable with a book. I could never get more than a page read before I thought about work again. I laughed in the silence at the irony; my work, my devotion for my job was what landed me in the hospital. I shook my head and held my book open closer to my face. I just wanted to escape.

--

The first two days home went pretty much the same; somebody was constantly around to keep me company and help me with whatever I needed. I didn't like the idea at first, and kept telling everyone they could get back to their own lives. But I realized that I really did need help, as much as that was hard to admit. And I was really glad I had the incredible friends I had to get me through it.

Apparently I was really going to need them.


	11. Chapter 11

"Don, are you okay in there?" Stella called through the bathroom door.

Flack lifted the damp washcloth from his face and turned to look at the closed door. "Stell, you're my friend and I love you, so don't take this the wrong way, but go away."

He heard her chuckle outside the door as he leaned back and covered his face again. "Just don't forget that you have therapy this afternoon. You have to come out of there eventually."

"Yes, ma." He slid down in the tub and let the hot water soothe his sore muscles. He wasn't allowed to shower because he still had his cast on and he was too unsteady to stand for long periods of time. But he was okay with the baths for now because it helped ease the pain from his injuries and relax the soreness he had from sitting on the couch all day. So he enjoyed every second he spent in there.

Half an hour later, he had gotten out of the tub and fought his way into a pair of shorts. He sat on the lid of the toilet another minute to rest before pushing against the countertop and his crutches to stand. He took the three short steps to the door, and called out to Stella as he opened it. She helped him back down the hall and to the couch. When he was settled, she gave him his shirt and shoe, and left him to it while she made a late lunch for them.

"So, you ready to start physical therapy?" Stella asked across the table as they ate.

"Definitely. I want out of this apartment."

"You say that like this is prison."

He took a drink of milk and swallowed before responding. "It is. Only the warden around here is much prettier than any I've ever seen before." He flashed her a grin before taking another bite of his sandwich.

--

Flack was exhausted by the time he was in the physical therapy gym, stretched out on the padded table in the middle of the room. Maneuvering from his apartment to the car and from the car into the building had taken more work than he realized. He never knew how much he had taken those few steps for granted all that time.

The assistant who led him inside lowered the table so Flack could sit down easily and a pillow was placed at the end so he could lie down. He was instructed to close his eyes and rest while he waited for Maria. Stella sat in a chair a few feet from the end of the table. "How ya feeling?"

He turned his head in the direction of her voice but his eyes remained closed. "Is the session over with yet?"

"No, I don't really think so."

"Oh. I was kinda hoping all the work it took to get in here was my workout."

Stella chuckled. "It'll get easier."

He opened his eyes slightly and glared at her. He was about to make a witty comeback when there was a knock at the door and Maria walked in. Flack pushed himself into a sitting position and extended his hand in greeting, ever the gentleman.

"Hi, Don," Maria greeted brightly, shaking his hand. "How are you today?"

"Doing pretty good. Made it here, which felt like quite an accomplishment." He turned a little and grunted at the pain in his ribs. "Yeah, we're going to call that feeling accomplishment," he smirked.

"Well you'll be feeling more of it before the day is up, unfortunately, so get used to it."

Stella sat quietly as Maria helped Flack do some simple stretches and range-of-motion exercises. She explained as she went what muscle groups each was working and why they were important. He willingly did each exercise and did his best not to show when he was in any kind of pain or having discomfort.

When she told him he needed to try to stretch his arms out over his head, he nodded in agreement, but quickly protested as pain shot through his side. He hadn't moved like that since he got hurt and his ribs were still healing. The motion was not one he could tolerate.

He grunted as he put his arms back down and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't do that."

Maria put her hands on his back and upper arm. "Take a deep breath for me, Don. I know it hurts but you need to try."

He shook his head again. "It felt like my ribs were coming out my side."

"Maybe I could help," Stella offered, sitting forward a little on her chair.

The young therapist turned to look at Stella, but never took her hands off Flack. "We've got it. Thank you."

Stella bit her lip and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed. She watched as Flack took a deep breath and tried to lift his arms over his head again. The pain on his face was almost too much for her to handle and within a matter of seconds, she was relieved to see him drop his hands back into his lap.

"It just doesn't feel right. Everything is straining against everything else. I've never felt anything like that before."

"What if you tried…" Stella began, but Maria brushed her comments off.

"How about raising just one arm at a time for me then. Do you think you could do that?"

Flack shrugged slightly and did as he was told, lifting his right arm up over his head. He managed to hold it just a moment longer than he had before, but then lowered it. He gave a defeated sigh. "Maybe I'm just not ready for that part."

"You don't really have much choice, Don. You have to get these muscles moving to strengthen them again. You were in bed for a long time with a lot of injuries. You may just have to learn to push through the pain." She gently put her hand up on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Stell, what was your idea? Maybe it'll help."

Maria gave Stella a warning glare but did not stop her from speaking this time. She rose from her chair and moved to stand in front of Flack, her knees gently touching his. "I'm no expert, but I think given the type and location of his injuries, he may just need a little more outside support. At least this early on. It looked to me like he was working too hard to support his own body with weakened muscles." She reached down to grab his arms, supporting them at the elbows, and raising them up slowly. She held them out just a little, around the sides of her own body. When his shoulders were squared, Maria moved behind him. She climbed up on the table and knelt behind him to use her body to support his back and shoulders. Stella continued to slowly move Flack's arms over his head, not quite making it all the way up before she stopped. She watched his face as he strained to maintain his composure, but it seemed easier for him this time. After 20 seconds, he nodded and Stella lowered his arms back to his lap.

He let out a breath sharply and looked up at her. "It's not Mount Everest, but it was quite an accomplishment."

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I thought the worst of my pain was over when I left the hospital. Nobody told me physical therapy hurt just as much. Or that getting there was half the battle.

It took me and Stell nearly 20 minutes to get from my apartment to the car. I had to stop and rest a couple times and I couldn't maneuver to get into the car very well. I commend her on not laughing at what I'm sure was a hilarious show, me fighting with my crutches as I got settled in the passenger side.

It was nice to drive through the city again. Stella took the long way to the clinic, and I know that was just for my benefit. After another fight with the car and my crutches, we headed into the physical therapy gym. It looked a bit like a giant playground with all the colorful equipment, but I didn't get to look at any of it long enough to figure out how it all worked. I was led to a large room with a bed-like table in the middle and told to rest until Maria came in.

As much as the exercises we did hurt, it felt incredible to hurt. It made me remember why I fought so hard in the ICU and why I was going to fight to get back to my normal life. I just wanted everything back the way it was. I wanted to get up and go to work in the morning, I wanted to be able to go to the kitchen for a snack when I felt like it, and I didn't want my friends to have to take care of me so much.

Well, maybe there was one benefit to all of that. I had to admit it was nice having Stella around. I felt bad for her having to take care of me, but I still couldn't convince her that Danny was willing to help too and that she could go home. She's been pretty comfortable in my home, and that was comfortable to me.

I don't know what was going on between Stella and Maria during therapy, but it felt like there was some serious tension in the room. I was so focused on my pain that I had a hard time even making out words at one point, but I know that Stella was talking and Maria wasn't listening. I know that she's the trained therapist, but I didn't take her for the type not to listen to other people's ideas.

And as it turned out, Stella's idea worked, at least a little bit. Between Maria supporting my back and Stella holding my arms up, I managed to stretch a little. But it still felt like I had been crushed all over again by the time I was done. Maria decided that was enough and told me to go home and rest, and come back in two days.

By the time we got back to my apartment, I could barely breathe. I was in a lot more pain than I realized. Stella helped me back to my bed and out of my shirt. I didn't bother getting under the covers; that would have taken work. I just laid back and closed my eyes.

I barely heard Stella leave. I figured she was going to watch some TV while I slept. But I heard soft footsteps a minute later and as I opened my eyes she placed a hot towel across my chest. I winced then sighed and closed my eyes as the heat seeped into my aching muscles.


	12. Chapter 12

When the elevator doors opened, he stepped out cautiously and watched for oncoming foot traffic. People were milling about the halls like usual and he was careful not to get in anyone's way as he moved toward the familiar lab area. He had learned to maneuver well on his crutches over the last couple weeks, but he could still fall easily with a bump or a nudge and he didn't care to do that.

Looking in the doors and windows for familiar faces as he passed, Flack walked slowly up the hall. He saw Adam with his back turned in the A/V lab as he walked past and was about to stick his head in to greet him when someone beat him to the punch. He decided he could say hi on his way back out and continued on.

Eventually he made it to the break room at the end of the hall and had still not yet seen anyone to stop and talk to. He walked in and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before sitting on the couch. He slouched back and got comfortable before opening his water and decided he would definitely have to rest a while before he could venture out again.

As he thumbed through the pages of a scientific journal on the table, not stopping to actually read any of the articles, Mac walked in and smiled. "Hey, Flack. What are you doing here?"

"Stretching my legs. I needed out of my apartment for a while so I thought I'd come say hi to everyone. But nobody seems to be around."

Mac poured a cup of coffee and pulled up a chair across from him. "There was a multiple homicide early this morning. Had to get a lot of people out of bed for it so I sent them all for an early lunch."

Flack nodded his understanding and took another drink. "Sadly, I would have loved to have been there."

Mac chuckled. "You'll be back before you know it."

"I suppose. So how have things been around here?"

"About the same," Mac nodded. "Had to let two people go because of budget cuts last week."

"This world is getting harder and harder to live in."

"But somehow we survive." He pointed to Flack's injured leg. "What about you, how you holding up?"

"Not doin' too bad. I officially kicked Stella out of my apartment last week. I can get around well enough to cook and take care of myself. But she still comes by every day to do my exercises with me and just to 'check in'." He used finger quotes on the last part, causing Mac to grin. "It's been nice having her around though. Makes the day worthwhile when I'm bored and lonely."

"That's nice. She's enjoyed spending time with you too. She talks about how you're doing with physical therapy and how your recovery has been the last few weeks. Not the most ideal way to spend time, but you know Stella, she just wants to spend time with her friends."

Flack smiled. "That's one of the things I love about her."

Mac took another drink of his coffee and stood up again. "Hey I was just headed out to lunch in about five minutes. Care to join me?"

"Eh, thanks but no thanks. I'm not quite up to par and I still have to get home and do my therapy. Maybe next time."

"Next time," Mac agreed.

Flack sat in the break room for another ten minutes before deciding it was time to venture out again. He stood slowly and stretched before making his way back down the hall. With everyone returning from lunch now, he was able to stop and talk to a couple of his friends for a few minutes on his way out.

He waited patiently for everyone to exit the elevator before him when he made it to the ground floor, then slowly made his way to the street and hailed a cab, heading home to get some rest.

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I felt like I had hit my first homerun all over again when I stepped out of the cab on my own and walked toward the crime lab door. I knew that I was making progress with my physical therapy, and I had been feeling better every day. But not being at work and with my friends had taken a toll on me; I really felt like I was accomplishing something by making it out of my apartment on my own finally.

I had a good talk with Mac and said hi to a few people on my way out. I was feeling pretty good about my day until I got into the cab. I started having pain in my chest from straining to support myself on my crutches for so long. I was really glad I was heading home.

When I got home, I propped my leg up on the arm of the couch and put the electric heating pad on my chest and quickly went to sleep watching TV. I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but I awoke some time later to the smell of stir fried chicken and vegetables and Stella humming softly in my kitchen. I laid there listening to her for another five minutes before I moved from the couch to join her for supper.


	13. Chapter 13

Flack was in the kitchen when Stella let herself in the door Thursday night. He was balanced against the counter, stirring a pot of pasta. When Stella moved into the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter, she leaned over to smell what he was cooking and sighed. "That smells like heaven."

"Long day?"

"You don't want to know."

"I think you forget just how bored I am here all day." He set the spoon down on the counter and began to stumble over to the fridge.

"What do you need?" Stella offered and began to slide off the counter.

But Flack put one hand out as the other gripped the wall for support. "Stay there. I got it. I'm getting' better at this," he grinned. He leaned against the wall as he reached into the fridge for a few vegetables. When he stood and closed the door, he used one arm to hold the vegetables and the other to maneuver back to the stove with one crutch.

Stella nodded her approval. "You are getting good at that. I'm starting to think you don't really need me anymore."

"Nonsense." He took a knife from the drawer to his right to start chopping. "I'm not limber enough to wash my toes on my right foot yet." He flashed her a grin and she laughed.

"Good to know you're keeping me around for a good reason," she patted him on the arm as she moved across the kitchen to set the table.

--

After their late supper, they were stretched out on the couch watching the 10 pm news. When Flack glanced over, he noticed Stella starting to close her eyes. He reached over to rest his hand on her knee. "Hey, you should go lay down. You'll get a sore neck sleeping there."

She opened her eyes and turned her head toward him. "No, I'm okay. Just resting my eyes."

"You need some sleep."

"What I need," she said as she sat forward, "is to get my blood moving again. We haven't done your exercises yet."

"It's nearly ten-thirty. We don't have to do that now, Stell."

"Yes we do. It's why I come over every night." She stood and held her hand out.

Flack reached for his crutches, gripping them both in one hand as he took Stella's hand with his other and pulled himself up. "Okay, what's first?"

"How about you start stretching while I go grab me a coke."

He chuckled as he moved to the middle of the room and sat in the floor. He reached to the wall to slide a pair of dumbbells closer, then began stretching his arms, chest, and back. Stella walked back into the room as he was reaching his arms behind his back and stood behind him to help him keep his arms steady while he stretched.

After his light stretches, he started in on the weights. Just like they had done for weeks, Stella supported him to prevent extra strain while he lifted weights. She made sure his arms were in the proper position and counted out each flexion and extension as he curled the weights toward his chest. As he complained about his lack of strength when he did presses, Stella rolled her eyes and used her fingertips to keep his elbows perpendicular to his body. Finally he decided he was getting tired and was going to call it quits after a set of sit ups.

Stella moved the weights aside as Flack laid back on the floor and groaned. She patted his leg and he took the cue; he bent his knees and she knelt around his feet to keep them in place, careful not to bump the pin still protruding from the side of his cast. "Going for five more tonight?" she asked as he clamped his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Taking a deep breath in, he pulled himself up, bringing his chest all the way up to his knees. "Yep."

Stella nodded as he stretched back to the floor again. She tightened her grip on his legs and leaned forward a little, counting out every fifth sit up. She watched the pure determination on his face with admiration. He had worked very hard to come back from some serious injuries; he was still working hard at it.

When he got to 45 sit ups, Flack was certain he was done. "I don't think I can make it to fifty tonight, Stell. I thought I would be able to, but I'm wearing out."

"You can do this, Don. Just five more."

He laid back on the floor, breathing hard. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing his way through two more and flopping back on the floor again. "No. I just can't do it," he panted.

"Don, you've only got three to go. You can't give up now." She leaned forward more and tried to will him the energy to finish.

He grunted as he forced himself to sit halfway up and was just about to fall back again when Stella reached out. With one hand, she fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him the rest of the way up and kissed him hard for just a moment. When she let go, he took a deep breath groaned through the last two sit ups.

As he lay back panting on the floor, arms sprawled out at his sides, Stella remained kneeling over him, unsure of what to do next; she was waiting for him to speak.

"Well that's a good motivator," he said with a grin a minute later.

Stella chuckled and got to her feet. She held out Flack's crutches and offered her hand to him once again. When they were eye to eye, she smiled. "I didn't know how else to get your adrenaline pumping and I certainly couldn't let you quit."

"Well I'd like to say I'm all for a little extra motivation. Your techniques are much more effective than Maria's, that's for sure."

Stella swatted him on the arm and grinned. "You should you go take a warm shower so your muscles don't get sore after all that."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement. "You gonna take off? You can crash here if you want. The guest bed is still made up."

"Nah, I should get home."

Stella grabbed her purse from the table and Flack followed her to the front door. They stood silently, trying to figure out what to do next before Flack finally shook his head and laughed. "This is awkward because we both liked that kiss."

Stella couldn't help the red tint that came to her cheeks and shrugged. "Yep."

"And because it was really more than just a kiss."

She nodded her head lightly as she took a small step forward.

Flack propped one of his crutches against the wall and took a small step closer to her. "I'm gonna take a chance here and kiss you again."

Unable to form another thought, Stella bit her bottom lip and nodded.

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I have to say I was pretty surprised when Stella kissed me. For the last few weeks when she was taking care of me, I let my mind wander. When she helped me get dressed the first couple days, when we sat on the couch all day and watched movies, I pushed past the reality that she was just taking care of her injured friend and wondered what it would be like if I wasn't her friend. If anyone asked, I would have told them it was harmless or that I was bored or just laugh and say 'hey, can you blame me?'. But really, I wondered.

But occasionally I wondered what she thought of me. I never thought she saw me as anything more than a good friend. We've been through a lot together and we've grown close over the years.

When we stood at the door to say goodnight though, our walls came down. It was like whatever we had been hiding for so long, it just wasn't worth hiding anymore. Without speaking about it, we managed to tell each other what we were feeling and finally just took that leap.

--

And now I'm laying in bed. Where I have been for the last three hours, still on too much of an adrenaline high to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

"Hi, yes, I was wondering if Katrina Barton was working this evening." Flack sat at his desk with a pen poised over his memo book. "This is Detective Don Flack. I was one of her patients and I've been trying to get a hold of her for a couple days." He paused and grinned as the nurse on the other end spoke. "Yes, I'm that Don Flack. Glad to know I'm famous for something. Look, do you think you can tell me when she works next?" He nodded and rested his pen on his desk. "Okay, thank you." He hung up the phone and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

"First day back at work and you've already got the look of defeat," Jess said as she sat down across from him.

"Hey," he nodded a quick greeting to her. "I'm looking for the nurse who took care of me while I was in the ICU and I can't seem to track her down. The hospital just said she took the week off."

"So, talk to her in a week," Jess shrugged.

"No, I really need to talk to her today. I need to thank her for everything she did for me. I was so focused on my recovery for the last few weeks that I didn't even think about her. And she deserves better than that. She saved my life. No amount of thanks will ever be enough for what she did, but I owe her that much."

"You've got a well-equipped computer right there in front of you. You could always try to come up with an address and swing by her house later."

He squinted at her for a moment. "Don't you think that's pushing some personal boundaries just a little?"

"I don't know. You're the one who's in a hurry to find her. I'm just making suggestions."

"Right." He nodded and sat up to his computer. "Can't hurt to look."

--

Flack made his way up to the crime lab at lunch time to visit with his friends. He made himself comfortable in the break room as people came in and out to say hi. When Stella walked in, he smiled brightly and patted the seat next to him on the couch.

They talked quietly as a few other people moved through the room. "You wanna come over for dinner tonight?" Flack asked, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "Dinner would be nice."

"Don't think that all these dinners and movies on the couch are all I do, now," he grinned. "Don't get me wrong, I'm rather fond of spending the night on the couch with ya. But when the cast comes off, I'll show you what I'm really made of."

"Easy there, Speed Racer. You'll still be walking with a limp when you get that cast off. I doubt you'll be going for world records right away. Of any kind."

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. "Oh, no, I didn't mean…" But when he saw her grinning at him, he blushed and rolled his eyes. "Cute."

Stella smirked and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but before she made contact with his skin, someone cleared their throat a few feet away. They both turned to see Danny and Jess standing in the doorway, Danny with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Public displays of affection at work. You're just embarrassing yourselves," Danny said, though a small grin played at his lips.

Jess held out a piece of paper, triumphant light in her eyes. "Found her address."

"Beautiful. Thank you." Angell handed him the paper and he looked at the information scribbled on it. "I owe you both drinks. Very soon."

They both nodded and left the room as Flack looked at the paper again.

"I didn't think you were working cases."

"Oh, I'm not. That was a personal favor." He held it out for Stella to read and she vaguely recognized the name at the top.

"Katrina. That was your nurse in the ICU?"

"Yeah. I wanted to thank her in person. But I was having a very hard time coming up with an address this morning. Angell and Danny volunteered to help out."

Stella smiled as she looked back down at the name on the paper. "You are just too sweet, Don Flack."

888888888888888

I got to Katrina's apartment just after four in the afternoon and knocked on the door. I immediately heard an uproar inside the house; she had kids. The door opened a minute later and a little boy, maybe 8-years-old, looked up at me.

"Hi," I smiled down at him. "My name is Don Flack. Do you think you can get your mom for me?"

"Okay," he nodded. He turned to run back into the apartment just as Katrina was coming down the hall. She smiled brightly at me and gestured for me to come in. "Join our madness, if you dare."

I stopped a few feet inside the door and she closed it behind me. "I uh, I didn't mean to intrude. I was going to swing by the hospital but they said you took off for a while. I just wanted to say thank you. For everything." I felt heat coming to my cheeks when I realized I had spent all day tracking down her address and barging into her home just to say that. I felt foolish.

But she put her hand on my arm and kept right on smiling. "You're welcome, Don. I'm glad you're okay now. And from the looks of it, doing well with your recovery."

I nodded, glancing down at my crutches. "The cast comes off next week. And it doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's great."

The blonde-haired little boy who had answered the door, who was still standing patiently next to his mother, looked up at both of us and tugged on Katrina's hand. "Mommy, are the cookies done yet?"

Her eyes went wide for just a moment. "You know, Alex, I bet they are." She looked back to me, almost apologetically. "We were just about to have a snack. If you're not too busy, would you like to join us for a while?"

I couldn't help the grin that broke across my face. "That sounds nice. Thank you."

"Alex, you wanna show Don where the living room is, then go find your brother?"

The boy nodded and looked up at me. I followed him into the living room where I sat on the couch then watched as he ran off in search of his brother, Derek.

I could hear the boys playing in the next room as I sat. I looked around the room from my perch and noticed many pictures of Katrina and the boys, but it seemed obvious the there was no father-figure around for them. Every picture focused on the three of them. But it seemed that they were doing okay for themselves. Their home was comfortable and felt like a family place. As I continued to scan around the living room, the sore thumb in the room was in the far corner. There was a green beanbag chair on the floor with an IV pole situated behind it. It had some kind of pump attached and there was a cart next to it with packages and medical equipment all over it. I was still staring at it when Katrina walked into the room.

"That's why I had to take off this week." I turned around sharply at the sound of Katrina's voice. She was walking in with a tray loaded up with cookies, a carton of milk, and glasses. "Derek had surgery this week. We all decided we'd play hooky together."

"Is he okay?"

Just then, both boys came running into the room, though Derek a bit slower, more cautiously. They both crash landed on a large chair together, then righted themselves to join us for a snack.

"Yeah, he's fine," Katrina chuckled. "He had a feeding tube put in."

"I have cystic fibrosis," he chimed in.

Katrina nodded. "He wasn't gaining weight. A feeding tube was the best option for him."

I nodded, mostly following along. Though it was obvious the boy was older, he was smaller than his brother. What she said made sense.

It also made perfect sense to me now why such a sweet and affectionate woman couldn't work with children, like I had thought when I had met her. It's hard seeing sick children every day, especially when you have one of your own to care for. But she seemed to do it with her head held high and a very unique grace.

As we all sat and talked for a while, I got to know the boys a little and soon realized they would both enjoy some of the after school and weekend activities that were offered at the youth center on my street. I offered to show them around when Derek and I were both back to 100% and Katrina said it sounded like a great idea.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was well after five. My quick stop had become quite the visit. I stood and thanked Katrina for inviting me into her home then turned to the boys. I told them I would see them at the youth center soon, and they both smiled brightly.

Katrina walked me to the door and smiled knowingly. "So. Hot date?"

"As close as I can get to one with these things," I said, gesturing with a crutch.

"I was hoping you two would figure it out. I saw the way you looked at each other when you first woke up."

I shook my head, both confused and amazed. "Ya coulda said somethin'."

She grinned and held the door open for me. "Doesn't matter now. Go."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks again, Katrina."

"Absolutely," she smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

Stella laughed as Flack's voice echoed in the bathroom. She turned several more pages in her magazine before she heard the shower shut off.

When Flack emerged from the bathroom minutes later, clad only in shorts, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles, he held his arms out to the sides in presentation. "Tada!"

She clapped and laughed again. "Feel better?"

He walked across the room toward the couch, limping slightly. "I feel fantastic." He sat on the couch next to her and put his foot up on the coffee table, scrutinizing the pale color of his skin. "For the first time in over two months, I feel clean. No bags or tape or anything. Just a good shower, head to toe."

"Well, I'm glad." She leaned over to kiss him, resting her hand on his bare chest as she did. "And I'm glad you're healthy again. You seem more like you."

"I feel like me again." He leaned over to kiss her again, easily welcoming her tongue as it brushed against his lips. Within minutes, their kisses became heated and he felt like his head was spinning. He gently pulled away and moved to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "I'd love to keep going," he whispered, his breath like fire on her skin, "but I still owe you a proper first date."

"Yeah," she nodded, closing her eyes, "you do."

--

"First day back on active duty and you pulled the big case?"

Flack whirled around to see his best friend standing in the middle of the scene, camera in hand.

"They threw me in with the lions," he grinned as he shook hands with Danny, clapping him on the shoulder before letting go. He then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Got a chaperone though." Danny looked to see Angell behind him and nodded. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere at all this week without her."

Danny shrugged. "Could be worse. Coulda been stuck with a newbie. That's a real kick to the cannolis bein' bossed around by a kid."

"True." He looked down at the body near his feet and gestured. "So what do you know here?"

"I know that I'm lookin' at some serious overtime with all the blood spatter we got here."

Flack chuckled and clapped his friend on the shoulder again. "Good to be back." He took his pen and memo book from his pocket as he turned to head to the crime scene tape where his partner had already gathered witnesses.

--

Reaching around from behind him, Stella set a cup of coffee in front of Flack on the table. He gave her an appreciative smile as he picked it up and cautiously sipped the hot liquid.

"How's it going?"

"Coffee's definitely what I needed," he nodded.

"You really got quite a case for your first day back. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." He looked down at his feet then back up at her. "The phrase 'my dogs are barking' seems really appropriate right now."

She chuckled. "You know we don't have to go out tomorrow night. We can always wait until you've gotten settled back in."

"No. Are you kidding me? This date has been put off long enough." He reached across the table and took her hand. "Don't expect a night out dancin' or anything, but I really want us to have a good time."

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips. "Okay. I am definitely looking forward to that." She walked back around to leave, letting her fingertips linger on his arm until he was out of reach, then walked out the door.

He smiled as he watched her go, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He sent a quick text message to Lindsay then got back to work.

--

The day flew by faster than he realized. Flack had been working so hard between his case and making the final plans for his date with Stella that he found himself at the end of his shift before he knew it. As he made his way down to the parking garage, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Hey, Linds. You got it all ready for her? Great, thanks so much. I owe you big time." He stuffed it back in his pocket and jumped into his vehicle and headed home. He only had an hour before Stella was off the clock and he had just a few things to do yet.

When he got home, he quickly showered and changed. He went through his apartment lighting a few candles, then preparing the dinner table. He looked at his watch as he took the chicken out of the oven. Stella would be over very soon and he wanted everything to be perfect.

There was a knock at the door just a few minutes before eight. Adjusting one more candle for the millionth time, he rushed to the door, smoothed out his shirt, then turned the knob. He was not prepared for the sight before him.

Beautiful didn't even begin to describe the way Stella looked. He had told Lindsay what his plans were and asked if she could help Stella get dressed accordingly, without giving her any details. She agreed and said she would have her all ready by eight. Now that she was standing in front of him, he was having a very hard time remembering what it was he had planned for them.

"Wow," he managed to breathe out.

Stella grinned. "All Lindsay's doing. But I'm guessing you knew that already."

He stepped aside to let her in, then took her hand as he leaned in to kiss her. After he closed the door, he took a moment to admire her again, and was completely in awe. Her hair had been tamed into loose curls that framed her face. Her silky red dress hung lightly on her shoulders and ran all the way down to the floor, hugging her curves as it went. It was definitely a look for going out on the town, and Flack almost felt bad that they were staying in. But she could always wear the dress again; he had every intention of taking her out more.

But for tonight, he just wanted to enjoy an incredible first date with her. With only her. He had everything planned out and he hoped she would find it as romantic as he saw it in his head. He led her further into the apartment to the dining room table and pulled out a chair.

Stella stopped and smiled when she saw that the table had been completely transformed from plain, usually just adorned with a few placemats, to simply elegant. He had covered it with a white table cloth, placed a few small candles in the center, had the settings complete with perfectly folded linen napkins, and a single red rose resting next to one plate. She took the seat he offered out to her and picked up the rose next to her plate, playing with it absently as she watched Flack go to the kitchen.

He returned a moment later with a bottle of wine, pouring both glasses then sitting down across from her and smiling. When he raised his glass to toast, she did the same. "I never really thought in a million years that I'd be with a woman like you. Thank you so much for being a part of my life, Stella Bonasera."

Stella blushed slightly and clinked her glass against his. "Thank you for making my life so wonderful, Don." With that they both took a drink.

They talked softly across the table until their dinner was done cooking. When Flack served it, Stella couldn't help but smile, and was wowed once again at just how great his cooking was.

After they ate, Flack quickly cleared the table, refusing to let Stella help, saying he would properly clean up in the morning. They took their wine glasses and moved to the couch to talk for a while before Flack took both glasses and set them on the table. He stood and took Stella's hand, indicating for her to follow him.

She followed him curiously and silently out into the hall and up the stairs to the roof access. Stella gasped softly as she looked all around her. The small roof garden looked like something right out of a movie. Some of the potted plants had been pushed to the sides, there were white lights strung up everywhere, and there was a small stereo sitting in a corner. She smiled knowing how much work it would have taken for him to put all of that together in so little time.

"I know I said we weren't gonna go out dancin' or anything. But maybe when my leg is all better, we'll really go out dancin'. I thought this would do for tonight though."

She slid her hand up to rest on his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him. "This is absolutely perfect. I couldn't ask for more."

Flack smiled as he bent down to turn on the music, the soft jazz filling the night air around them as he pulled her a little further into the center of the garden.

They smiled as they kissed once more, then Stella rested her head on Flack's shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her and they swayed gently to the music.

Half an hour later, still holding each other close as they talked softly, Stella shivered.

"You're cold," Flack said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "You wanna go inside?"

Wrapping her arms tighter around his torso, she pressed her body against his. "Yeah, maybe we should. I'm sure your leg could use the rest after being up and around all day too."

He shrugged. "Eh, I'm okay."

"Really?" she asked flatly.

"Okay, yeah, I could sit," he chuckled.

She smirked. "I was thinking of maybe stretching out on the couch."

"I like the sound of that."

She slipped out of his arms and let her hand fall into his as she walked back to the door to head inside. She turned back to him with a shy smile as they headed down the hall, shaking her head as she felt herself blushing.

When they got into his apartment again and closed the door, Don surprised her by quickly yanking her close and kissing her. Stella giggled against his lips and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back.

After several minutes, they finally broke apart just a few inches, smiling foolishly. "Ya know, I'm still just a little cold. Coming inside didn't quite do the trick," Stella said with a flirty grin.

"I was kinda hoping you'd say that," he smiled as lowered his mouth to hers again.


End file.
